If It's Not Rough, It Isn't Fun
by Jane Krahe
Summary: A chance encounter in the boys locker-room sends Kurt and Puck spiraling into a strange pattern of lust and denial. Graphic! Further warnings inside, please heed them.
1. Chapter 1

Title: If It's Not Rough, It Isn't Fun (Part 1/?)

Author: janekrahe

Rating: NC-17 for bad language, homophobia, and graphic sex

Character(s)/Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt

Warning: shades of dub-con (only if you're sensitive to the subject, really)

Spoilers: let's just say for every episode aired, to be safe

Disclaimer: Hmm, if I owned Glee... Puck would have given in to those naughty feelings about Kurt by now! As it is, I don't own them. And I'm certainly not getting paid for this. (sadly)

Author Notes: Um, so, I wish I could stop describing Kurt with words like "soft" and "sweet", but that's exactly what he is, so... I fail at vocabulary. Also, violent abuse of italics and commas...

Summary: A chance encounter in the boys locker-room sends Kurt and Puck spiraling into a strange pattern of lust and denial.

Kurt flipped open his compact. Mercedes was at his shoulder, chatting away about some celebrity. Mr. Schuester was late, as usual, and everyone in Glee club was sprawled over the stands. Kurt rubbed his lips together - he was using a new lip gloss, and he wasn't too sure of it yet - then pulled them apart with a pop. Closing his compact, he locked eyes with Noah Puckerman, football player, homophobe, ladies man, and all around king of douchbaggery. He was staring at Kurt with an odd look on his face. Kurt gave him a "wtf?" face. Puck shook himself, then sneered at Kurt and turned away. Kurt rolled his eyes and turned back to Mercedes, wondering what had gotten the other gleek's jockstrap in a twist.

"So, the wedding's supposed to happen this weekend, all the biggest stars are going to be there, and - "

"What are you talking about?" Kurt asked.

"Were you not listening that last ten minutes, Boy George?"

"Not really, and George is way past his prime." Kurt ran his tongue over his top lip. At least the gloss tasted good. Glancing around the room, he met Puck's eyes again. This time, Puck turned red, glared daggers at Kurt, and turned around in his chair.

"What's his problem?" Mercedes asked.

Kurt shook his head. "No clue."

After football practice, Kurt waited until all the boys left before getting in the shower. It wasn't like he was all that attracted to any of them - except Finn, of course - nor was it because he had no self-control. He just didn't want some Neanderthal peeking over the stall, trying to get a glimpse of the "fag". The showers were still filled with steam when Kurt chose a stall. He turned the shower on, sighing as the hot water poured over his sore muscles. Even though he didn't do anything on the team but kick field goals, they still made him run drills with everyone else. If it wasn't for Finn and his father, he'd probably quit.

It wasn't for a few moments, which Kurt spent quietly moaning over the feel of the heat and steam running over his skin, that he realized the stall next to him was still occupied. He heard harsh, male breathing and froze, the bar of soap gripped in his hands. The panting continued, and after a moment, Kurt heard another sound; the slip-slap of skin on skin. Oh, God. Kurt moaned low in his throat as he realized what was going on. The guy in the next stall was jerking off.

Heat burned in Kurt's face as his cock filled, and he leaned against the divider between the stalls. The panting was rough and oddly familiar. Kurt felt his own breath coming in quick, sharp gasps, and without thinking, he lowered his soapy hand down his stomach to curl over his cock. There was a thick red haze in his mind, and even though he knew that being caught jerking off to the sounds of another guy jerking off was a sure way to end up in traction, he couldn't keep his hand from stroking and twisting. There was something inherently _filthy_ in what he was doing, and Kurt could already feel his orgasm building, liquid heat pooling in his pelvis. His left hand searched out for something to grab onto, sliding over the wet tiles. He ended up gripping the edge of the top of the stall. It wasn't until large, callused fingers connected with his own that he realized what he'd done. Kurt gasped and tried to pull away, but the hand held on. Kurt had never orgasmed with anyone in the room, let alone touching someone. The thought made him whimper, and there was a responding moan from the other side, low and _male_, and so very familiar, and if Kurt could just think clearly he'd _know_ who it was.

Kurt's hand moved faster, and the slapping sound on the other side sped up as well. Kurt could feel it coming, hurtling at him like a freight train, and - "Oh... _oooh_," Kurt moaned as hot come pulsed over his hand. The hand on Kurt's tightened, and he heard a responding moan, this one more like a growl, and _what in gay hell_, he knew instantly who it was.

Noah. Fucking. Puckerman.

Kurt wrenched his hand away from the other boy's, cold terror filling him, chasing away the afterglow and making him tremble. He leaned forward into the shower's spray, closing his eyes and letting the water wash over him. He heard the shower next to him turn off. Kurt held his breath, wondering when the first punch would come. The slapping of bare feet on wet linoleum stopped outside his stall, and he could feel Puck's gaze burning into his back. Kurt was too scared to turn around, so he just stood under the water, shaking. Finally, the steps resumed, and Puck left the locker room.

Kurt waited another half hour to do the same.

He wasn't gay. Noah Puckerman was not. Fucking. Gay.

He'd bedded more desperate housewives than any other pool boy, he'd tapped most of the Cheerios, and he had a girl at every away game.

To reiterate: _not gay._

So how to explain the incident with Kurt? Noah was having what he liked to call a BIG GAY PANIC because _hello_, not gay. But earlier that day, he'd jerked off to the sound of Kurt Hummel jerking off, and what the hell was up with that?

He'd been jerking off because he was horny. The Cheerios were denying him tail since he joined the Glee club, and the weather was too cold to be cleaning pools. He hadn't gotten any in weeks, and he was starting to climb the walls. And when he'd caught himself staring at Kurt Hummel's lips in Glee that day, he decided he needed some Puck-time, before he started batting for the other team. It wasn't his fault that the fairy had a girl's mouth, or that he wore _lip gloss_, for Christ's sake.

But then there'd been that sharp intake of breath in the shower, so soft and sweet, and it turned Puck on like nobody's business, and when he'd seen that small white hand at the top of the stall, even though he'd known who it was, he couldn't stop himself from grasping onto it and riding the lightning.

When he'd walked by the stall and looked in, Kurt was braced against the wall under the spray, his whole body shaking, and Puck had a momentary flash of _lust_, strong and dark, and it pissed him off royally. He'd wanted to beat Kurt's face in, but the boy looked so scared, trembling and naked, that he'd just stomped away.

He didn't think Kurt would tell anyone. Who would believe him? Noah Puckerman was a stud, everyone knew that. He wouldn't be in the locker room, jerking off with another guy, except for how he _did_, but that fact could be easily ignored.

The next day in Glee, Kurt - dressed like one of those faggy runway guys, as usual - completely avoided Puck's gaze. So Puck chalked the incident up to diminished mental capacity due to extreme horniness, and decided to never think of it again.

It had been three weeks since the "incident", as Kurt was thinking about it, and all had gone back to normal. He'd told no one but Mercedes, who'd promised silence on pain of death and bad hair, and had mostly managed to forget it. Sure, it was distracting when Puck pulled out a guitar, and those thick fingers strummed across the strings, but Kurt just reminded himself that Puck was the king of douchebaggery, and turned to stare longingly at Finn. Handsome, sweet, dumb Finn.

That day after practice, Kurt did the typical thing of waiting until everyone had left. He was a lot more thorough, checking each stall before settling in and beginning his shower. He hummed happily to himself, spreading his special, organic mint and oatmeal soap over his chest. He got so into it that he didn't know anyone was there until he heard a very male someone clearing his throat.

Kurt froze, terror coursing through him. "Hey, there, Kurt." Dear God, it was Puck, what the hell was he doing?

Kurt turned slowly, feeling like he was in the middle of a horror movie. Puck was standing at the opening of the stall, a towel slung low around his hips. "W-what do you want?" Kurt asked. He was surprised to notice that fear made his voice lower, not higher.

Puck undid the towel, tossing it to the side. Kurt's eyes were drawn to the boy's cock, half-hard and so big, and a mixture of fear and anticipation gripped Kurt. Kurt wrenched his eyes up, only to see a smirk on Puck's face. "Like what you see, fairy?"

Kurt pressed his lips together. "Not hardly," he replied, voice cold. He turned back to the hot stream, hoping the other boy would just get bored and walk away.

No such luck.

"Like you've had better." Kurt gasped as he felt large, rough hands grip him by the hips. "I don't think you've had any at all." His hips were snapped backwards, and Kurt fell forward, hands catching himself on the wall in front of him. Water poured into his eyes and mouth, and he spluttered for a moment before being able to breathe.

"See that, Kurt? How easy you are? You bend so sweet." Kurt felt Puck's cock, now fully hard and leaking, sliding between his butt cheeks. And despite the fear rippling under his skin, arousal spiked through him. Kurt bit his lip to keep from moaning, but a whimper slipped out, and Puck ground his erection against him at the sound. "You know, Kurt, if you want to be fucked, all you gotta do is ask."

A thick hand grasped Kurt's cock, which seemed to have forgotten the whole "Puck is a madman and might kill me" thing, and was very much into the proceedings. Puck pumped once, twice, and oh God, Kurt was close to coming from just that. He'd never been touched by anyone so intimately before. But when he'd fantasized about it, pulled out that blue vibrator April Rhodes had sent him, and allowed himself to really think about it, he'd always imagined losing it to Finn.

Not Noah fucking Puckerman.

"L-let me go," Kurt managed around the water coursing over his face.

"Oh, Kurt, I don't think that's what you really want." Puck's voice was sing-song and teasing, and his fingers slid back, over Kurt's balls and perineum, which was so good that Kurt tried to squirm away. Puck held on, and Kurt lamented the fact that there'd be hand-shaped bruises on his perfect white hips, should he ever get out of this alive. "I bet this is exactly what you want." A finger circled Kurt's hole, and his muscles clenched in fear. There was a sharp smack to his ass, then a low chuckle. "If you don't relax, this'll hurt."

The hand on his cock resumed its stroking, and despite himself, Kurt began rocking his hips, matching the movements. He was so close, _so close_...

The hand stopped, and Kurt pumped his hips in frustration a few times before whining high in his throat. Puck chuckled again. "Aww, what's wrong? Is there something you need, Kurt?"

Kurt whined again, shame prickling hot across his back and neck. If he didn't come soon he was going to explode, but was it worth his pride?

Puck thrust again, and the tip of his cock caught on that pink rim of muscle, and _screw his pride_. "Please," Kurt said quietly. "Please... just get it over with."

"Well, that's not very flattering... but I'll take it." The hand returned, and Puck began thrusting, sliding wetly between Kurt's white cheeks, which felt amazing, and Puck did this thing with his fingers, and there was a wrist flick, and Kurt's orgasm caught him off guard, and his cock pulsed as he painted the wall in front of him.

Puck grunted and came a moment later, and the feeling of his cock pulsing against Kurt's skin, his come spreading hot over the boy's back, was almost enough to make Kurt want to go again. Puck released Kurt, who sank to the floor. Kurt had tears in his eyes, not because he was upset, but because it was the most intense orgasm he'd ever had. He looked up through the shower. Puck was looking down at his own semen-covered hand. He lifted his fingers to his mouth and gave an experimental lick. "Huh," he said, then rinsed off in the spray. Looking down at Kurt he said, "I'll see you next time, kid." Grabbing his towel, he walked away, whistling.

Kurt groaned. Next time? He barely survived the first. What the hell was up with Noah Puckerman?


	2. Chapter 2

Noah was pissed at himself. Not just pissed. Hugely, royally, _immensely_ pissed. He couldn't even explain to himself what he'd been thinking when he cornered Kurt in the shower again. But God, it'd been good. Kurt's skin was so white and creamy and sweet, and even though he tried to say "no", his body shuddered and writhed like a whore, and God, that whimper...

Noah shook himself, trying not to flashback to the incident. He didn't want to get a hard-on in the middle of class. Unfortunately, it wasn't just any class. It was Glee. Puck looked across the room. Kurt sat with Aretha and Asian Girl, and though he was putting on a good show of being his normal, bitchy self, Puck could see a fine tremor in his hands. As if the boy could feel Puck's eyes on him, he looked up. They locked gazes, and with a surprising jolt of lust, Puck saw desire in the kid's eyes. Not fear, not anger... desire.

Well, wasn't that an interesting development?

Puck maybe didn't feel so bad anymore.

After class, Puck walked up behind Kurt and his hag, vaguely listening to them. "He kept staring at you," Mercedes whispered. "The whole period."

"Yeah, I know," was Kurt's sullen reply. "God knows what that barbarian is thinking of now."

"Actually, Kurt," Puck began, reveling in the way the boy jumped out of his skin, "I was thinking of asking you to be my partner on our Glee assignment this week."

Kurt turned, looking scared and pissed... and yes, horny. Puck smiled. "After all, you sound more like an opera singer than anyone. How about it?" Their assignment had been to modernize a famous opera number.

Kurt looked speechless, but his guard dog stepped in. "I don't think so, jackass," Mercedes said, a hand on her hip. "He's already said he'll partner with me."

Puck rolled his eyes; this was getting dull. "Too bad." He grabbed Kurt by the wrist and dragged him away.

Kurt squeaked and thrashed, but Puck's grip was bruising, and he managed to pull the boy into an empty classroom. He tossed Kurt across the room, where he collapsed onto a desk. Locking the door behind him, Puck advanced on the boy. Kurt scrambled up further on the desk, one foot on the ground, his legs spread, and _God, _the fear in his eyes shouldn't be a turn-on, should it? "W-what do you want from me, Puckerman?" Puck smiled, showing his teeth. It was the smile he gave before... well, before he'd throw Kurt in dumpsters. Kurt faltered, his pretty blue eyes darting around nervously. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

Puck moved to the desk, putting himself squarely between the gleek's legs. He leaned forward, his hands on either side of those hips he'd grasped onto so possessively the day before. "No," he said. And though he hadn't had a plan when he'd dragged Kurt into the classroom, the sight of those slim hips gave him one. "I want to see them," he said.

"See... what?" Kurt stopped fidgeting. He raised an eyebrow, and Puck could swear the kid was curious.

"I want to see the bruises on your hips."

Oh, that sweet little gasp, the widening of those blue eyes, Puck instantly congratulated himself. There was desire in those baby blues, no mistaking it. And it seemed he may have stumbled onto a kink of Kurt's - not that Kurt would realize, being a virgin and all. "No," he replied after a moment.

Puck just looked at him, a smile playing on his lips. "Yes." He wasn't harsh or mean; he might have been answering the phone. But it worked. Shaky white hands went to Kurt's belt. He was wearing tight, black pin-striped slacks that day, showing off his perfect little ass. Puck could seriously get used to that ass.

Kurt pulled down the zipper, and shifted his hips until the pants hung low, almost off completely. Puck dropped slowly to his knees. He was surprised at how the sight affected him. Perfect handprints, mirror images, like purple brands on that smooth skin. "Wow." Puck's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.

"Happy now?" Looking up, Puck saw Kurt, his arms crossed, a pink blush spreading across his face. "Are you satisfied?" Kurt's voice shook. He was trying to be cold, but Puck could tell he was turned on. Hell, Puck's jeans were suddenly three sizes too small, and all he was doing was looking.

Puck lowered his eyes to Kurt half-exposed lap. "Not yet," he said quietly. He leaned forward and laid a kiss on Kurt's stomach, just above his underwear line. Kurt gasped, and Puck looked up. Sliding his tongue across his skin, Puck savored Kurt's reactions. The boy's head tilted back, his eyes slid closed, and his hands gripped the edges of the desk until his knuckles were white.

"Oh... God." Kurt's voice was soft, barely more than a whisper. Breathing heavily, he lowered his gaze back to Puck. "Wh-why are you doing this?"

Puck shrugged, his tongue never leaving the salty, warm skin in front of him. When Kurt just kept staring at him, Puck pulled back a bit and said, "Just enjoy the ride, Kurt." Returning, Puck slid the boy's slacks even further down, exposing his cock. He'd never done anything like it before... but he _wanted_ it. Like, really bad. He didn't want to think about it too much, though he knew he'd have another big gay freak out later. All he knew then was that there was a gorgeous little body in front him, and a sweet little voice panting above him, and he wanted it _all_. So he went on instinct.

Taking Kurt in his hand, Puck licked a stripe from root to tip. He swirled his tongue around the head, and Christ, the kid was already quivering. Puck smirked to himself. He was _such _a sex god. He slid his lips over the head, taking the smaller boy's cock in his mouth, and the taste should be disgusting, but it was the biggest turn on ever, and what the hell?

Kurt's hips twitched and the boy was coming, and with his cock in Puck's mouth all he could do was _swallow_ or drown. Puck pulled off, coughing and wiping his mouth. He looked up at Kurt. He was hunched over, gripping the table for support, panting. Christ, he couldn't even be mad at the kid! Puck stood, ignoring the straining in his jeans. Kurt's face was red, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Hey," Puck said softly, his hand on Kurt's shoulder, "are you okay, man?"

Kurt took a deep, shuddering breath, the back of his hand raised to his mouth the way women do when they're distressed. Finally, he nodded. Lowering his hand, he said, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good. I, uh..." Puck hesitated. He knew what he wanted to say, but how to say it? Clearing his throat, he continued, "I... want to do this again... sometime. And maybe... go a little farther."

Kurt raised his head, and the first tear finally fell. "Why?" he asked, frowning.

"Are - are you crying because you don't... because you didn't want... did I hurt you?"

Kurt shook his head, and Puck breathed an inward sigh of relief. "No," the boy continued, blue eyes bright. "I'm crying because... well, why me?"

"I... haven't figured that out yet... exactly. But I want it. You, I - I want you. I guess." Christ, Puck had never felt more awkward in his life. Who knew fooling around with a dude would _more_ drama-filled than with a girl? "Well, what do you say? Do we do this again?"

Kurt was silent for a long time. Finally, slowly, he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I think we do."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Boy, are you sick in the head?"

Kurt flinched under Mercedes' flashing eyes. "No, I just..."

"Noah Puckerman, Kurt baby, _Noah Puckerman_. He's a player, and you, boy - you're a pretty little virgin."

Kurt flushed red. "Not... all virgin." He crossed his arms. "I'm not in love with him, Mercedes. God, I'm not stupid! I just... he wants me. Like, _really _wants me. Where else am I going to get that? Besides, it'll be good practice for all the hot, actual gay guys I'll meet once I'm working for a high-end fashion magazine in New York."

Mercedes sighed. She sat down next to Kurt on his bed. "Baby boy, I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I know." Kurt smiled and leaned over, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Love my girl."

Mercedes beamed at him. "Love my boy back."

As it was, Kurt was internally freaking the fuck out. His first blow-job and he lasts thirty seconds, and it's given to him by a douche jock in an empty class room at school. _So _not how he imagined it. He'd never actually imagined getting one in the first place. He'd always imagined being on the giving end. But the getting... it had been pretty awesome. Short, but awesome. And for whatever reason, Puck wanted to do it again. He hadn't said anything about when, but Kurt assumed he'd just get manhandled into some dark corner again. Which really shouldn't be a turn on.

It was a week before Puck spoke to Kurt again. They were in Glee, waiting for Schue, and Puck leaned over and whispered in Kurt's ear, "Leave your window open tonight."

"I live in a basement," Kurt hissed back, trying to ignore the gooseflesh rippling over his skin, the feel of Puck's lips by his ear.

"I know that. Don't worry; I'm flexible."

Kurt shivered in anticipation. Mr. Schue came in just then, on a new crusade probably inspired by his operatic love life. Kurt didn't know; he couldn't even hear the words.

What was he getting himself into?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **_Hey, thanks for all the reviews, guys. I'm having a lot of fun with this story, but I was really worried it wouldn't come off right. :) I'm glad y'all seemed to like it._

Noah sat on the hood of his car. The night was cool and it was times like that, with the breeze and the silence, that he felt the most like himself.

And he needed to be honest with himself.

He was maybe not as straight as he used to think.

He still loved girls; girls were hot and feline and slinky. But Kurt... he was soft and sweet, but still so very _male_, and he had Noah's radar all screwed up.

Noah sighed. He was turning into a girl with all the self-reflection. Time to focus; Kurt's house was up the street and that pretty little piece of ass was waiting for him.

He stood, his hands in his pockets, and headed down the block. At Kurt's place, he surreptitiously glanced in the first-floor window. Was that really Kurt's dad? He was drinking an MGD and watching Kane and Rey Mysterio pound each other into the mat. Puck hurried past, making his way to the basement window. He tapped on the glass and waited, telling himself he wasn't nervous.

The window opened. "Hi," Kurt breathed.

And that one syllable was enough to set Puck off. He slid feet first through the window, earning him a gasp from Kurt, who stepped back and wrapped his arms around himself. He was wearing a thin t-shirt and soft yoga pants, and his hair was mussed and damp. He'd obviously just showered; Noah could smell the delicate scent of expensive soap. "Look," Kurt began, his voice shaking, "I'm not sure this is such a good idea. I mean, my dad's upstairs –"

Noah wasn't sure where the words came from, but they tumbled from his lips, rough and dark. "I bet that would turn you on, wouldn't it, getting fucked down here while your daddy's upstairs, knowing we could get caught, begging for my cock and trying to be quiet at the same time–"

Kurt gasped, his face turned red, and that was _it_. Noah growled and pounced at the boy. Pushing him onto his back on the bed, Noah sealed his mouth over the pulse on that slim white neck and _sucked_. Kurt gave a soft cry and arched into him. Kurt's cloth-covered cock ground against Noah's and he rocked his hips down, pressing Kurt to the mattress.

Pulling back, Noah wrenched Kurt's shirt off and tossed it somewhere behind him. He got up off the bed and pulled the thin grey sweats down Kurt's legs, getting them tangled at his ankles. He flipped Kurt onto his stomach and growled, "Stay."

Kurt whimpered and Noah watched as fine tremors worked their way down the boy's spine. Noah grinned. Who would've thought the kid actually _liked_ being pushed around? Fumbling with his button with one hand, he groped blindly with the other, ripping open the drawer in the bedside table. Just as he managed to push his jeans down to his thighs, his other hand grasped onto a small bottle of lotion. He popped the top off and dripped it down his fingers. Leaning over, Noah latched his mouth onto the back of Kurt's neck, sucking on the smooth flesh. His finger circled Kurt's hole.

"Ah!" Kurt cried softly, jerking. Noah's bit down on the back of Kurt's neck and the boy still instantly. "That… that lotion's expensive," Kurt whispered shakily.

Noah laughed, tonguing against the boy's salty skin. He pushed his finger forward and was shocked when it slid in smooth and easy. Kurt keened and pressed his hips back towards Noah. "You've done this before," Noah growled, a hot wave of anger rushing through him, though he wasn't sure quite what he was angry about.

Glancing over his shoulder with sex-glazed eyes, Kurt replied breathily, "Well, yeah. I masturbate just like anyone else."

Noah smiled slowly. So it hadn't been with a _person_ then. "Do you really have a dildo stashed somewhere around here?" The thought was insanely hot.

Noah curled his finger and Kurt whimpered, nodding his head. "Yes," he gasped. "Yes, it's… under the bed."

Noah considered it for moment, pulling out the rubber cock and watching Kurt fuck himself with it. Until Kurt's ass clenched around his finger and _fuck that_. They could do that later. For now all Noah could think about was burying himself inside that tight space and never coming out.

He added a second finger and then a third when it proved to be easy. Kurt writhed beneath him, bucking his hips back, his cock red and leaking, dripping onto the bed. Noah pulled his hand back and began to unbutton his pants – and then stopped.

He hadn't brought a condom.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"Hmng?" Kurt seemed beyond words for the moment.

"I didn't bring a rubber."

Lust-blown glasz eyes peered at him over a white shoulder. "And that matters why?"

Noah spluttered for a moment. "Well, we –"

"Are you clean?" Kurt's voice was muffled, half his face still pressed to the pillow, but Noah knew exactly what he was asking.

"Yes." _Hell_ yes. He'd had _everything_ checked since Babygate.

"And I'm not a girl," Kurt said. "We're fine. Just… remember for next time, okay?"

Noah nodded. Without another word, he gripped the smaller boy's hips. Lining himself up, he began the slow press forward. This was promptly subverted when Kurt planted his hands on the bed and shoved himself backwards. Noah's head fell back and he bit into his bottom lips to keep from shouting as he bottomed out inside Kurt. He'd never felt anything quite so hot or tight and _dear God_ he wasn't going to last. Noah stilled, breathing hard, trying to ease himself back from the edge.

Kurt, however, had other plans. He reached back and gripped Noah's ass and pulled him forward. "Christ Puck," he grated out in a voice that had dropped several octaves. "Just fuck me already."

There was no way Noah could stop. The entire US fucking Army led by Sue Sylvester in a bikini could not have stopped Noah. He thrust forward and took up a deep, rolling rhythm. Kurt moaned and buried his face in his pillow. Noah leaned over and sucked on Kurt's neck, just under his ear. They moved together in slick sweat and heat. Fine tremors ran through Kurt's body every time Noah struck his prostate, and each one in turn ran up Noah's dick and over his spine. It was like they were connected; everything Kurt felt, Noah felt.

Kurt began shuddering and muttering breathy little _oh's_, over and over. The sound was so damn hot and dirty and it sounded like he was close, but Noah hadn't even touched his cock yet, so he couldn't be, right?

Noah wasn't prepared for it when Kurt came. He bit down on his pillow to muffle his sob (did that boy always sound like he was crying?) and jerked his hips as he spilled all over his starched white sheets. Noah gasped as Kurt's entire body convulsed, his tight channel sealing itself around Noah's cock like a vacuum. Noah bit down on Kurt's neck as he followed him over the edge, holding the shuddering boy to his chest and thrusting forward as far as he could go.

When it was over he collapsed, barely managing to remember not to trap the kid underneath him. Noah dropped down unto his side and pulled Kurt close to him. He breathed into the boy's hair, content and satisfied for the first time in a long time.

But Kurt… Kurt seemed awfully still in his arms. "Kurt?" Noah said softly. "Hummel, you alive?"

"What are we doing?" was the hushed reply.

Noah huffed. "Post-coital cuddling is awesome," Noah replied. "And totally manly, so shut up about it."

Kurt sighed. "That's not –"

And no, Noah did _not_ want to have that conversation right now, not when he was so damn _happy. _He placed a kiss on Kurt's shoulder. "We should get some sleep."

Kurt was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Yeah. We should." He reached over and flipped off the bedside lamp, plunging them into darkness. His breathing soon evened out as he fell into slumber.

Noah lay awake until the sun came up.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Kurt winced as he slid out of the driver's seat of his Explorer the next morning. Kurt had awoken that day to find himself alone in bed, his pants around his ankles and dry come gluing him to the sheets. Not his most dignified morning. But the pillow had stilled smelled like Puck, and well… that was just fine.

He was a little ashamed of the wave of emotion that had hit him the night before. Puck had made him come untouched, something that Kurt had never done, and it had been hot and dirty and amazing. And then the fucker had _cuddled_ him. Drawn him close and _snuggled_. And what the hell was up with that? When there was nothing resembling affection between them, Kurt could deal quite well with their… whatever. But when Puck held Kurt, his arms warm and strong around him, his heartbeat on Kurt's back – he'd had to choke back tears. Because it wasn't real. It felt nice, but that's all it was.

Now, in the harsh light of day, Kurt was able to convince himself his moment of weakness had been caused by rushing hormones and the loss of his virginity.

Mercedes took one look at him when he arrived at his locker and hauled him into the girls' bathroom. Sitting him down in the chair usually reserved for slushy victims, Mercedes crossed her arms and said, "Alright, boy. Spill."

"What?" Kurt squeaked. "I don't –"

"You stink like sex."

Kurt winced. "Puck… came to my house last night."

Mercedes sighed. "Honey, tell me you didn't give it up to that player."

Kurt avoided her gaze.

Mercedes frowned. "What am I going to do with you?"

The bell rang then, and Kurt was able to rush off. He'd never been so happy to get to class. Unfortunately, it just so happened to be a class he shared with Puck. Sliding into his usual seat in the front, Kurt kept his eyes on the teacher as Puck sauntered into the classroom. Normally Puck sat in the very back corner as if he already had one foot out the door. This morning, however, he sat down right behind Kurt. Kurt could feel the dark eyes on him and he fought not to fidget.

A few minutes into class, Puck leaned forward and breathed into Kurt's ear, "You didn't even try to cover up that hickey. That's so fucking hot."

_Hickey_? Kurt pulled out his compact and held it up, turning his head. There was a large purple-red bruise marring his perfect white neck. Kurt turned the mirror to see Puck giving him lusty eyes in the reflection. Kurt stuck his tongue out at him and turned his attention back to the teacher.

Puck pulled him into supply closets twice that day. Each time Kurt stumbled out, flushed and panting, adjusting his clothes and trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

During Glee that afternoon, Kurt did his best to keep his eyes on Schue though he could feel Puck's dark gaze from across the room. Afterwards, he headed to his car. A note was stuck under the windshield wiper. Plucking it up in his slim fingers, Kurt read:

_Kurt –_

_I should probably give you a break tonight. You're still a newbie __But I want to see you tomorrow night. I'll be there at eleven._

_Puck _

Kurt smiled to himself. The gesture was almost sweet. Getting in his car, it dawned on him what he'd just thought.

He was maybe sorta falling for Puck. And he was fucking _screwed_.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Noah jiggled his leg and looked at his phone again. Kurt hadn't been in school all day.

It had been a month since they'd begun… whatever it was they had. And Puck couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy. Kurt was eager and fun, and Puck looked forward to the after-sex conversation almost as much as the deed itself. But Kurt hadn't been in school that day and Puck was worried. He'd heard Karofski telling Azimio in the locker room that he missed tossing Kurt in the dumpster. Maybe they'd done something to him.

He knew that if anyone knew where Kurt was it'd be Mercedes. But the brassy hag had made it pretty damn clear she didn't approve of his and Kurt's arrangement. Puck glanced at the clock. _Fuck it_. He fired off a text to Aretha.

_Hey u seen kurt 2day?_

After a moment his phone starting singing like Adam Lambert (so Kurt had gotten a hold of his phone, it didn't mean anything!).

_He's sick dumbass. The flu. Leave him alone or your balls are mine._

Puck thought for a moment.

_Can I take his homework 2 him?_

Mercedes didn't respond for a long time. Puck was about to put his phone away when it sang again.

_Fuck with him and I'll kill you. Meet me outside after school. I'll give you his work._

Puck smiled.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Aretha had been less than friendly, but she'd simply pursed her lips and handed Puck a sheaf of papers. "His grades are important to him," she'd said tightly. "Don't fuck it up."

Puck headed to Kurt's house, but half-way there he turned around and headed to his own. "Hey Mom!" he called.

"Yes, honey?" She was in the kitchen.

"My… friend is sick," Puck said. He dropped his backpack on the table and grabbed a cookie off the plate on the counter. "What kind of food do you give sick people?"

His mother turned from the stove. She stared at him silently for a moment.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Never once have you brought a sick friend food," she said, her expression wary. "Noah, I love you, but you're not the most considerate person in the world."

"So you're saying I'm a dick?"

His mom shrugged. "If the slur fits…"

"Dude!" Puck exclaimed. "I can't believe my mom just called me a dick!"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I stand by my assessment."

Puck laughed. "I'm serious Mom, what do I bring him?"

She smiled and took pity on him. "It just so happens your sister is sick, too. I've got a fresh batch of homemade chicken noodle soup. I'll fix you up a bowl to take to…?"

"Kurt," Puck supplied, grabbing another cookie. "Kurt Hummel." He froze with a bite half-chewed in his mouth. He had no idea why he'd told her that. His mother had never known the name of a single girl he'd dated, let alone people he just fucked.

Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice his dismay. She rummaged around in the cupboards until she found a Tupperware bowl. Filling it with the steaming soup, she handed it back and said, "Tell him I wish him well."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I will." Puck grabbed the bowl from his mother's hands and ran to his truck.

He arrived at the Hummel's place a few minutes later. Kurt's dad obviously wasn't home. Puck let himself in and headed downstairs. The sight before him made him stop in his tracks.

Kurt was curled up on the couch, a large white down comforter wrapped around him. His hair stuck up on one side. He was pale and his eyes were bloodshot, his nose red and puffy. He was staring glassy-eyed at the TV, where a Queer Eye marathon was running. It was the most pathetic sight Puck had ever seen. And all he wanted to do was curl up next to Kurt and hold him.

Puck cleared his throat. Kurt's eyes wandered slowly over in his direction. "Sorry," the boy said, his voice stuffed up and nasally, "I'm in no shape to satisfy your libido today, Puck."

Puck smiled. "I know. I brought you soup." Stepping into the room, he placed the bowl on the coffee table.

Kurt looked up at him, disbelief clear behind the fever-glaze. "Really? Why?"

Puck shrugged. "Well, you're sick. And I figure the sooner you get better, the sooner we can go back to… satisfying my libido. And my mom said chicken soup helps." Puck congratulated himself. It sounded oh-so-reasonable. Too bad it wasn't true. Not the _whole_ truth, anyway. There was more to it, he knew there was, but he was very carefully _not _examiningwhat that could be.

Kurt seemed so surprised that Puck actually felt momentarily hurt. A month of fooling around and Kurt still thought of him as an asshole? Puck swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Scoot over."

Kurt did, and Puck joined him on the couch. He drew the boy close and wrapped the blanket around them. Kurt sat stiffly next to him. "What're we watching?" Puck tried to sound casual.

"Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," Kurt responded. "But… there's a Mythbusters marathon on, too."

"That'd be cool." Kurt changed the station and relaxed against Puck. Puck leaned forward and buried his nose in Kurt's hair. He smelled like mint and herbs.

The chicken soup sat forgotten as the two sat wrapped around each other. They laughed at Adam and Jamie's antics and clapped at the explosions. They fell silent after about two hours, and something warm fluttered in Puck's chest when Kurt made a sweet little huffing noise and snuggled closer to him. Looking down, he realized Kurt was asleep. The thing in chest grew, hot and bright, and the lump in his throat came back. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on Kurt's temple. It occurred to him that he'd never actually kissed Kurt before. He wasn't sure why; after all, those lips were _amazing_.

"Hey, Kurt?"

_Oh. Shit._

The voice filtering down the stairs was Finn's. Puck cursed and jumped up. "Wha -?" Kurt began sleepily.

"I gotta go." Puck grabbed his jacket and backpack.

"But -!" Kurt began, but Puck was already sliding up through the window.

Puck ran off towards his truck, ignoring the soft voice behind him. Panic was setting in. What the hell was he doing?

Stopping at his truck, he hopped in and slammed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he laid his forehead on the wheel. Puck had never done anything nice for someone without expecting anything back. But he'd gone to Kurt with no other thought than to make him feel better.

He needed advice. But he only knew one person he could talk to about it. He just hoped he wouldn't lose any limbs when he asked.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0


	4. Chapter 4

"No."

"Santana, I –"

"No."

"San – "

Santana whirled around. "I am not discussing your big gay crush with you!" she hissed.

Puck glanced around the crowded school hall, but no one was paying them any attention. "Say it louder, would ya?" he growled.

Santana sighed. "You have two minutes."

"Okay." Puck took a deep breath. "So I started fooling around with Kurt, right? It was fun and he's really weirdly hot, not like you're hot, but still really hot. And we've been doing it for awhile now but yesterday he was sick and I got his homework and chicken soup and went to his house and just _hung out with him_, like, on purpose, and we didn't have sex, we didn't do _anything_, and it was probably one of the best couple of hours of my life and I'm freaking out right now and –"

"Alright, stop," Santana demanded, holding up a hand, "before I vomit on you." Puck fell silent. "The problem, you big homo, is that you've gone gay for Hummel. You like him. The way you liked Quinn. You're so far gone at this point I don't think even _I_ would do it for you anymore. So just march your ass back to him and ask him on a real date, before your new-found ovaries explode all over my uniform."

"But… how can I be sure?" Puck asked. He didn't _think _he was in love with Kurt.

Santana rolled her eyes. She grabbed Puck by the shoulders and pulled him forward and kissed him. Puck squeaked a little. And after a moment, he started struggling. Because it wasn't… it just wasn't what he wanted. Finally, he gripped Santana by the shoulders and pushed her back. "See?" she asked with a smug look.

Puck sighed. He had to go find Kurt. He glanced around… and saw Kurt standing at the end of the hallway, a stricken look on his pale face. "Shit!" Puck hissed. "Shit. Kurt!" He made to run after him but Kurt turned and darted away, disappearing just as Puck caught a glimpse of tears streaming down his face.

Shit, _shit, SHIT!_ Puck slammed his fist into a nearby locker. He whirled on Santana. "What the fuck, Lopez?"

She sneered at him. "Your problems, Puckerman, are not my problems. Go be emo to someone else." She turned and stalked away.

Puck slammed his head back against the locker and pondered just how fucked he was.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Kurt ran through the halls without really knowing where he was going. Tears were blinding him, and he kept getting shoved out of people's way. It didn't matter though. Nothing compared to the ripping sensation spreading across his insides, the feeling of his heart, lungs and stomach being shredded and burned. He _knew_ it was a bad idea trusting Puck, giving so much of himself to him. He'd given him _everything_, his whole being, and had stupidly fallen for his rough charms. And now he was stuck with a broken heart and a lost virginity, and nothing to show for his first foray into the world of dating.

Love fucking sucked.

Kurt found himself in the second-floor girl's bathroom. He slumped to the floor and leaned his head against the cold , moldy-smelling tiles. He'd woken up the day before to Puck rushing out on him, but he'd assumed it was because Finn was coming down the stairs. Puck had left a container of chicken soup on the coffee table next to his homework and books, stacked neatly. Why had he done that if he was just going to fuck around with Santana?

Kurt gave a watery sigh. "Kurt?" He groaned and opened his eyes. Mercedes was leaning into the room.

"Here," he croaked. There was no use hiding from her. The girl had a sixth sense about these things.

She took one look at him and her face fell. "Oh, _baby._" Dropping down on the floor next to him, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.

Kurt sniffed and hugged her tightly. "I'm so fucking stupid," he said.

"No, baby," Mercedes said. "You just… you just love with everything you have. It's why you're such a good friend. And it's a gift, honey. But you're gonna have to be prepared for people to take advantage of that."

"I thought he liked me," Kurt sobbed, feeling completely pathetic.

"Who's to say he didn't? Puck's an immature ass and he screws up everything good he has. You were something good and he screwed it up."

"How do you know -?"

"I don't have to know what he did to see that he did _something_."

"I hate this."

"Everybody does."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Mercedes stalked through the halls, her eyes flashing. She'd left Kurt with Tina and Artie, just telling them that someone had hurt his feelings. They knew not to press for information; it's why they were always so helpful in bad situations.

She found her prey under the bleachers outside. Puck was sitting on the ground, his knees drawn up, his hands lying uselessly at his feet. His head was down and he looked for all the world like he was asleep… or dead. _Oh he _will_ be, _Mercedes thought viciously. "Hey, douchbag!" She kicked his foot. He didn't move. "Get up, asshole, so I can kill you."

"Go ahead," came the muffled reply, his head still down. "I'm a pathetic fuckup. I can't do anything right."

That… wasn't quite what Mercedes had expected. "What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

"I should have never gone to Santana," Puck said, raising his head. "She's evil; I should have known she wouldn't be any help."

"Help with what?" Mercedes put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "With what, Puckerman?"

Finally, Puck looked up at her. She had to admit, he looked terrible. "With Kurt," he replied. "I asked for her help and instead she fucked me over… but it's really my fault because I needed help in the first place. I'm too stupid to even figure out when I'm in love with someone –"

"What?" Mercedes squeaked.

"- and even when I do figure it out I fuck it up. Kurt never did anything to me and look what I did to him, what's wrong with me?" The last was a plea directed plaintively at Mercedes.

Mercedes sighed. "Okay, boy, tell me exactly what happened." She sat down in front of him. _These boys_, she told herself_, are hopeless._


End file.
